


Free hugs

by Nival_Vixen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Complete, Conventions, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski Being Idiots, Derek Needs a Hug, F/M, Hugs, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 15:30:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6525889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nival_Vixen/pseuds/Nival_Vixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically, Derek “I’m so touch-starved, I go to conventions to get free hugs from the guy masquerading as Death” Hale.</p><p>This is the first year that Stiles doesn't cosplay as Death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free hugs

Stiles cosplays Death every year, and shamelessly looks forward to hugging Tall, Dark, and Stubbled, ‘cause no matter what, that guy _always_ finds him. (There was a time at a panel for Lucy Lawless where Stiles was literally Baby stuck in the corner, and Tall, Dark, and Stubbled appeared, looking for a hug. It was a little awkward, but Stiles has no regrets. None whatsoever.)

Scott teases him, but the joke’s on him, because Scott has _finally_  pulled his thumb out into the sunshine and got himself a stall at the next convention in California. So now, he needs Stiles’ help, and while Stiles does make a few complaints about free labour, he gets in for free as “Scott’s employee” so the complaints don’t last long.

Scott has an official shirt - “Puppy howlers” - which Stiles is only wearing because he practically forced Scott to choose grey material over white (white at a convention? Hell no.), and because Allison drew the design. Scott might be awesome at creating realistic ears and tails, and other cosplay designs, but actually drawing? He can barely draw a stick figure without somehow screwing it up. (Stiles, admittedly, isn’t any better.)

Stiles kind of misses his Death outfit. After five years, it’s comfortable, and he always gets smiles from people with his ‘free hugs!’ sign. Well, that one child screamed, but that’s just ‘cause he’s convincing as Death, all right?

Stiles finds himself scanning the crowds, looking for Tall, Dark, and Stubbled. He tells himself it’s because TDS has the best werewolf cosplay Stiles has ever seen, and he wants to see what he thinks about Scott’s work, but even Stiles knows when he’s lying to himself. Not that he ever has to admit it, of course.

“Ready for your break?” Allison, goddess that she is, asks as she offers him a water bottle.

“Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Stiles replies, drinking down half the bottle in a minute.

“Take some business cards,” Scott says, shoving a large handful at him.

Stiles struggles to grab them without ruining them with condensation from the water bottle, but manages it, and hurries off before Scott can drag him back again. He adjusts his fox ears - lovingly and painstakingly designed by Scott (there was a lot of swearing involved, actually) - and swings his fox tail, hoping to draw attention so he can get rid of these business cards sooner rather than later.

The minute he’s free of crowd that’s bottle-necking the first indie alley, Stiles is practically accosted. He goes still in an instant, his fight or flight instinct kicking in and rendering him useless. Stiles thinks of all of the anti-bullying signs around, wonders if he needs to bring some sort of mace spray next time (though, Stiles is pretty sure he’d accidentally spray himself instead of his attacker), but as awareness filters back in, Stiles realises that he knows his attacker. TDS, curled up around his back, arms wrapped around his shoulders and chest, breathing haggardly as if he’d run right across the convention in a minute flat.

“Hey, dude. Long time, no see,” Stiles says, patting TDS’s arm awkwardly.

There’s a whole side-hug thing going on; not their best hug. (The best was convention #4 where they hugged for a full two minutes and people actually had to walk around them. Convention #5 was the Lucy Lawless mishap; Stiles had complained to Scott afterwards how he wished he’d seen TDS again to give him a proper hug.)

After about ten more seconds, TDS finally pulls away.

“You’re... you’re not Death,” TDS states, blinking - and oh dear god, is he blushing?!

“Helping out at my best friend’s stall this year. Unfortunately, Death selling cosplay items is bad for business,” Stiles replies with a grin and holds out a business card.

TDS takes it without even looking. Stiles wonders if there’s something on his face; TDS hasn’t stopped staring at him since they stopped hugging (does a one-sided hug really count?), and it’s starting to freak him out.

“Excuse me? Where did you get your tail, I freaking love it!” a girl asks, and Stiles tears his gaze away from TDS when he realises she’s talking to him.

“Oh, Puppy howlers, Stall 1324. Here, have a card. Tell them the Fox sent you,” he adds with what he hopes is a confident and flirty wink, and not a creepy eye twitch.

The girl grins, thanks him, and continues on her way. Stiles turns back to TDS, but the blue-eyed werewolf is gone.

...

“Are you going to keep sulking, or are you going to help me pack up?” Scott asks, looking to where Stiles is sitting under his trestle table, still moping several hours later.

“You don’t understand! It wasn’t even a good hug, Scott! Like, convention #2 was marginally better than this hug, that’s how bad it was!”

“Was it better than convention #1 though?” Scott asks, pausing in packing up the last of his ears and tails - it’s nearing the end of the day and he sold most of his stock, so he’s pretty pleased, despite Stiles’ moping for three-odd hours.

“A hug from King Joffrey would be better than convention #1, Scott. It was like hugging a 2x4, but without the emotion,” Stiles mutters, playing with his fox tail and smacking it against the trestle’s tablecloth.

“How is there emotion in hugging a plank of wood?”

“Because it used to be a tree. C’mon, keep up here, man.”

“Still sulking under the table, Stiles?” Allison asks, raising her eyebrow at Scott, who shrugs in response.

“Don’t think I can’t see you silently parenting this, ‘cause I can!” Stiles calls out, smacking the tablecloth again.

Allison pulls the tablecloth off the trestle and looks down at Stiles pointedly. “Get out of there, you’re acting like a child.”

“Am not,” Stiles replies maturely, and sticks his tongue out at her.

“Really, Stiles? Get out of there, or I will drag you out by your ears,” Allison threatens.

Again, Stiles is a mature adult and responds as such, by throwing the fox ears at her.

“Hey! I worked hard on those! Don’t throw them around like toys!” Scott snaps, taking the caught fox ears from Allison and putting them in the storage box as well. “Give me the tail, if you’re going to swing it around like that,” he adds, holding a hand out.

Stiles holds the tail out to him meekly, but his eyes widen and he slides back under the trestle table a second later, grabbing at the tablecloth Allison is still holding in a poor attempt to hide himself.

“Hey. My friend and I were just wondering if your friend was still here? Guy who dresses like Death every year? My friend wants to make an apology,” the blonde says, a death-grip on TDS’ arm that looks as painful as her glare.

“Apology?” Scott echoes, confused. He looks between TDS - looking far too meek for his scary werewolf outfit - then down to where Stiles is still hiding. “Stiles, why does he need to apologise?”

“’Cause it was a crappy hug?” Stiles guesses, though he’s not sure why either.

“Are you... are you hiding under the table?” the blonde asks, frowning.

“Uh. No. Absolutely not. I was just... getting this fox tail that fell,” Stiles lies, coughing and standing, shoving the fox tail at Scott.

“Uh-huh. Derek, apologise to the cute Death guy.”

‘ _Cute death guy?_ ’ Scott mouths to Stiles, grinning.

Stiles glares at his best friend, briefly wishing he really _was_ Death.

“I’m sorry for hugging you without permission; I didn’t... I didn’t realise that you weren’t Death this year and you didn’t have the ‘free hugs’ sign, and I should have asked. Sorry,” TDS - Derek - says contritely.

“It was kinda surprising; I think you’re the first and only person to accost me with a hug,” Stiles admits, hoping Derek will stop looking so miserable. “But yeah, **ask** random strangers for hugs next time.”

“You’re not a random...” Derek cuts off abruptly when the blonde elbows him sharply in the ribs.

“Hey, I get it; after 7 conventions in the last 5 years, it’s almost like we know each other, right?” Stiles says, grinning.

Derek nods once, briefly. Stiles wonders where he gets his contacts from, because he swears his eyes actually glow blue.

“Right, well... we’re going to finish packing up. Unless you want to buy any ears or tails?” Scott asks hopefully.

The blonde looks as though she wants to burst out laughing. The time Derek elbows her sharply, and he shakes his head.

“We’re all right, thanks,” he adds, then looks to Stiles again. “Sorry again.”

“Thanks for apologising, dude,” Stiles says with a smile.

"Now that’s done, we’d better get going. Have a great night,” the blonde says as she leads Derek away.

“Thanks, you too,” Scott and Allison call in unison, and seriously, that’s just creepy.

Stiles shudders, imagining them in a Children of the Corn-esque way, and slides under the trestle table to go after Derek and the blonde. He can’t see them at the end of the alley - they must walk seriously fast - but Stiles sees them up ahead. He uncaps a pen from his pocket and scribbles on his palm, walking after them.

“Hey! Derek, hey, wait up!” Stiles calls, jogging now to catch up.

Derek turns immediately. The blonde looks between them for a split second before she smiles almost knowingly (which is just as creepy as Scott and Allison talking in unison) and continues walking.

“I’ll be with Boyd; find us when you’re done, Derek.”

“Erica!” Derek hisses after her, but she just waves without looking back.

Stiles feels like an idiot suddenly, and he’s overcome with the desire to run back to Scott’s stall and hide under the trestle table again. Forever this time.

“Uh, hi,” Stiles says, approaching Derek over the last few metres.

“Hi?” Derek replies, looking confused.

“I was just... I mean, I thought... Okay, don’t judge me for this, all right?” Stiles mutters, and holds his hand out, palm facing Derek.

FREE HUGS

Derek smiles, which should be scary through his werewolf fangs, but somehow isn’t, and moves forward to hug Stiles firmly. Stiles grins against his shoulder and hugs him back. So what if his eyes close for a few seconds?

“So... What are your feelings on curly fries?” Stiles asks as they pull away, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

Derek looks at his chest like he can hear the ridiculous beat. “You mean, curly fries eaten on a date?”

Even more nervous than before, Stiles nods. “Yeah.”

“I’d like that,” Derek replies, and he smiles at Stiles like he’s a werewolf and Stiles is the moon.

...

Two months later, Stiles discovers that Derek really is a werewolf. He freaks out for the whole of a minute, because he already had his suspicions - Derek isn’t exactly subtle - and then tackles him with a hug and a million and one questions.

...

Two years later, Derek gets down on one knee and holds up his hand, palm facing Stiles.

MARRY ME?

Stiles takes the pen from him, face serious and heart steady as he writes on his own palm.

YOU STOLE MY IDEA!!!

Stiles then holds out his other hand where the same words on Derek’s palm are written on his own, and pulls his fiancé up to give him the best hug of their lives. So far.

...

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> I do the [tumblr](http://nivalvixen.tumblr.com/post/142623830832/free-hugs)


End file.
